Always In: The Shore Series Book 2

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Authors: M.R. Joseph

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BOOK: Always In: The Shore Series Book 2
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Always In

Copyright
©
2014 M.R. Joseph

Edited by Marion Archer of Marion Making Manuscripts

Copyright
©
Jennifer Kearney Photography 2014

http://www.jenniferkearneyphotography.com/#2822

Formatting by Indie Pixel Studio

http://www.indiepixelstudio.com

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 1500370215

ISBN-13: 978-1500370213

TABLE OF CONTENTS

DEDICATION

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

EPILOGUE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

DEDICATION

To Brandon & Mia

Thank you

For teaching me to be selfless

For making me laugh everyday of my life, even when at times I’d like to scream

For letting me into your worlds and to see life through your eyes as you grow and learn and discover new things. This amazes me!

For the opportunity to kiss your sweet faces every night while you sleep and how I thank God for blessing me with such beautiful creatures

Most of all, thank you for making my dreams a reality by being the greatest gifts I could ever receive and by far my biggest accomplishments.

Not only do I dedicate this book to you, for you I dedicate my life.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Now this is the easy part.

There are so many people to thank so I’ll start with my adoring husband. My biggest supporter, writing pusher, book cover designing genius, partner in crime, most loving, caring, handsome, funny man I have ever laid my eyes on. I couldn’t ask for a better gift than the gift of his love. I feel blessed every day that God sent him to me. Thank you, Bub for everything, especially our two beautiful babes.

Thank you to my family and friends for always being in my corner and sharing in this joy with me. I could not have done this without your love and constant words of encouragement.

My betas, Tina Bell, Tina Moss, Chrissy Massa, Lisa McKewon, Sandy Connor, Stephanie Leone, Laura Hash, and Vanita Gagen. Dear Lord what would I do without each and every one of you? Thanks for the laughs, your hard work, and for being there for me when I wanted to punch a wall or two. Love you girls.

A special thanks to Wendy Shatwell, my “British Beta”. Thank you dah-ling for all of your help and for being such a wonderful friend to me. I can’t wait till we meet next year! Love you, friend.

Thank you to my beautiful friend, Julie Prestsater. Without you I don’t know where I’d be. I’ve never met a more caring, thoughtful, fun, and honest person in my life and I will forever be grateful for our friendship and for everything you have done for me. I love you, dimples!

Bloggers! Man, there are so many of you who have helped me and stood behind me though out these past few years. Thank you Lydia and Heidi from HEA Bookshelf Blogger, Lisa Kane from Three Chicks and Their Books, Tina, Tracey, and Karen from K&T Book Reviews, Tara from Teahoney’s Book Blog, Julie McIntyre from Mac’s Book Blog, Kristine Barakat from Glass, Paper, Ink Book Blog, Kristine Englefield, the girls from Abby’s Book Blog, Jennifer Wolfel from Wolfel’s World of Books, Stephanie Phillips from Stephanie’s Book Reports, Crystal Peik from Kricket’s Chirps, Michelle Kannan from All Romance Reviews, Jodi from Butterflies, Books, and Dreams, Shannon from Cocktails and Books, Sandy Piazza and the rest of the ladies from Lovely Ladies, the girls from We Love Kink, My girls at Bare Naked Words, and everyone I haven’t mentioned who have helped so much in getting my name and my books out to readers. My appreciation and loyalty goes beyond words. Without you, all I have are words on a page.

To my readers! Yay, I have readers! Thank you, thank you, thank you for your support, honesty, loyalty, trust, and words of constant encouragement! I love each and every one of you. I’m a truly blessed girl to have so many beautiful people read my words and tell me how much they love my books. You are all amazing!

Thank you to my wonderful, talented, beautiful photographer Jennifer Kearney. You have such a gift and created what I think is your best work yet! Thank you for all of your hard work and eye for detail. The end result is incredible and makes me so proud. You should be so proud! Xo

Thank you to my gorgeous cover models, Reuben Ondarza and Rose Marie Mount. Thank you for gracing the cover of this book, for giving me your time and the use of your beautiful faces. My appreciation goes beyond words. Reu, thank you for working so hard in order to make the ladies who have a chance to see your pictures go gaga. Ha, Ha.

To my new heavenly editor, Marion Archer. Thank you for your expertise, your words of wisdom, your ‘Marionisms’ as you call them, for believing in this book, in the story, and for believing in me. You are a true angel who was sent to me! Thank you again, love!

Lastly, to the person who paid it forward to me, who believed in my talent, who gave me a gift that made me feel like there still were generous, good-hearted people left in this world. Thank you for one of the most beautiful gifts I have ever received. Your generosity goes beyond any words I could ever write. I always hope that you know how my gratitude and love for your generosity will be something I will never forget. I hope one day I will be able to do the same thing for someone else. You are a beautiful person inside and out and I’m so blessed to know you and call you friend. (Oh, and I’m not telling anyone who it is.
She
knows who she is!)

PROLOGUE

Harlow~

I can hear, yet I can't speak. I can't feel, but I am aware. I am in perpetual darkness and I want to scream, but I can't open my mouth. Sounds are mumbled. People are around me, talking, saying things, but none of it makes sense. I dream about my loved ones, I know I do, but I can't see their faces. I hear so many voices but who is talking to me? What is all this I hear? I hear my name being called but I can't see. Why can't I see? Why can't I open my eyes? Am I dead? Is this death and all the mystery that surrounds it? I dream of floating. I dream of floating like a weightless article. I dream about losing control. I fight against something, but then it passes and I feel afloat once again. I can't figure out why I feel this way. Am I flying? Oh, God, please help me. If I am in heaven, please come to me and tell me. Why can't I move? Please, someone tell me. Wake me up if this is a dream- if I'm not dead, please someone stir me from this nightmare.

The one voice I hear constantly in my ear, I've heard it before, I know I have, but I don't know who it is. I hear daddy, I hear mommy, I hear my brother. Their voices are familiar.

Are we all dead? Is my family here with me and heaven is just so dark that we can't find our way to each other? Oh, please I hope it's not like this-death. I hope it's not just the abyss. I'm afraid, so afraid. I want to wake up. Please. Please. Please. I want to wake up. I don't want to be in the dark anymore. I want to move. My body wants to move. Why can't my brain listen to me? Please someone. Wake me up. Please wake me.

***

Cruz~

6 weeks after the accident

Her eyes are open. Harlow is awake. My Turnip is awake.

CHAPTER 1

Familiarity

Harlow~

Everything about Dr. Goldberg's office is familiar. The scent of lemon oil on the mahogany furniture, the soft feel of the leather chair I sit in, the pictures of his family that hang above the wall behind his desk. It's all familiar. I can even remember the names of his four children. Kate, Mark, Pete, and Lucy. See, how do I do that? How do I remember something so simple as the names of my therapist’s kids yet I can't remember anything about that night?

As I wait for Dr. Goldberg to come in and begin our session, I hobble out of my chair with my crutches and look out the window of his office. I peer through the blinds onto the Main Street in Princeton. My hometown. I’m glad to be back. I watch the street below. It's late August and I can almost see the heat rising from the black-topped streets. People rushing around from place to place. Some possibly to work, a lunch date, or some shopping. I wonder what their lives are like. I know what mine is like. It's a one-day-at-a-time kind of life right now. But I have to keep moving forward. Push through the bad to get to the good. I remember some of the bad, but unfortunately I can't remember a lot of the good.

And for that, I feel disappointed. Memories are supposed to live forever.

Dr. Goldberg walks in and greets me, startling me in the process.

"Harlow, so nice to see you. Please come and sit. Tea?"

I make my way back over and sit in one of the familiar leather chairs and stare at the familiar desk before me. I look at the familiar, gray-bearded, balding man in front of me.

"No, thank you, Dr. Goldberg. I’m good." He eases back in his chair as he takes his pen in hand and begins to bite on the tip of it. This is also a familiar thing about Dr. Goldberg. He always starts our sessions this way.

"So how is your week going? How was physical therapy this week?"

I look down at my legs and see deep scaring, evidence of my accident. Those I’m not familiar with. How I got them, how they healed, and why some are larger than others. I brush my fingers over the grooves. The pinkness of the new skin showing through damaged old skin. Some of the skin has been graphed over the much deeper wounds. I try and wear longer clothes to cover the scars, but at this point, I can't allow myself to be vain enough to care. I’m alive and that's what matters most.

"P.T. is going well. They say just a few more months on the crutches. I don't use them at home as often as I should, but they warned me to use them more often than not once I go back to work in a few weeks."

Dr. Goldberg opens up my file and clicks the cap of the pen, getting ready to ask me
the
question again. The one he asks me all the time. Then he'll write down my response.

"And you are still determined to go back to teaching and not take the medical leave they offered you?"

I shake my head and give him a slight smile.

"I know what you're thinking, Dr. Goldberg, but I have to get on with my life. As long as I keep going to physical therapy, and keep coming to see you, then I’m fine. Teaching is also therapy to me, and I’ve made a lot of friends at that school, and Willow is always there. She's going to drive me in every day, and take me home every night. I’m finally back at my own house, too."

Writing something down, he nods his head in what looks like acceptance.

"Your parents were okay with that?"

I laugh. "Not really. Mom cried and wanted to take care of me full time. I just needed to be back on my own. Besides, Greta is due soon and she's going to have to rely on my mom more than I will. Dad is so busy with his new firm. Craw is getting ready for his final semester of student teaching, which in fact, is at Grayson-Elders."

Dr. Goldberg loves Craw. You can see it on his face when I say his name. He knows Craw is someone special to me and has been there with me throughout this whole ordeal.

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